


Harry Potter and the Sexy Slytherin

by Nan_Golden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, M/M, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nan_Golden/pseuds/Nan_Golden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter was your typical magical teenager over the age of consent.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Potter and the Sexy Slytherin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Boeshane42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boeshane42/gifts).



Harry Potter was your typical magical teenager over the age of consent. He had awoken that morning in his dorm room feeling out of sorts and quite out of character. It was a most peculiar sensation for the Gryffindor. 

Rather than speak to his closest friends about his feelings, Harry decided to go for a walk in the castle. Where is everyone? Harry wondered. It was as if the entire school was empty with nary a responsible parental figure about. There must be some sort of field trip to Hogsmead going on, or a Quidditch game, he decided. What else did magical students do? Harry couldn't recollect.

He wandered about Hogwarts, that strange out of character feeling intensifying with every step. He felt moody and alienated, as if his strength of character was leeching out of him, becoming subsumed by angst. 

Harry Potter sighed heavily. No one really understands me, he thought. He felt alone and isolated from his coping mechanisms. If only he had a cumbersome ink pot, quill and parchment about! He could write about his feelings. In black ink. Possibly in a poem or meaningful song lyrics. But alas, Harry had no handy Muggle pencil or notepad on his person. Harry sighed even more heavily, feeling as if the weight of the whole wizarding world was on his surprisingly well defined shoulders.

His meandering journey took him into the dungeons. Deep and dark, it was the lair of the Slytherins and home of the most alliterative Slytherin Head of House, Severus Snape. Snape! Perhaps Snape will understand me, Harry hoped. Snape was a bitter and vindictive war criminal nearly twice Harry's age who'd hated and tormented Harry and his friends for years. Why hadn't Harry noticed how much they had in common? 

Gathering his courage, an exclusively Gryffindor trait, Harry Potter sought out the Potions Master. After several hours, Harry found Snape at long last –after checking every other room in the dungeons first– in the Potions classroom. Snape was hunched over a simmering cauldron, brewing a potion. Harry was very surprised. Snape brewing a potion? Harry had believed that Snape had a multitude of interests other than Potions. Oh well.

The former(?!) Death Eater glowered when Boy Who Lived entered the Slytherin's classroom. Now that there were two male characters in the scene, Snape had to resort to using descriptive epithets rather than personal pronouns or names. How vexing for the Potions Master! 

"What is it, Potter?" Snape snapped, hoping that the little twerp would bugger off and leave him alone. In his dark dungeon. So alone. 

Harry shuffled about awkwardly. Now that he was before Snape, he was tongue tied. 

"Well? Kneazle got your tongue?" Snape was in a foul mood. He had also awoken feeling quite out of character, and had been fighting off a good mood all day. He was exhausted and dearly missed his usual self loathing. He was feeling so well in fact, that he was worried he wouldn't be in the mood for his nightly brood over his horrible life decisions. 

"It's just…" Harry bit his lip and his eyes glittered with unshed tears. "I wanted to talk you about…"

"About? Well, spit it out, Potter!"

"My feelings!" Potter blurted. Snape blanched and dropped his stirring rod.

"Your feelings? You want to talk to me. About _feelings_." 

"Oh, Professor! Nobody understands me at all! Not like you!" Harry wailed.

What. The. Hell. Harry stepped towards Snape with his arms outstretched. Snape froze in shock as Harry wrapped himself around the Slytherin in a hug. An uncontrollable wave of compassion smashed over Snape's shriveled black heart, flooding the Potions Master with empathy. He felt powerless against the Gryffindor's healing embrace and gently hugged Potter back, resting his cheek on top of Harry's head. 

"There, there." Snape patted Harry on the back awkwardly. Harry sniffled and leaked snot onto Snape robe. There they stood, the Boy Who Lived and the Greasy Git, swaying together for several minutes. Now what? Snape wondered. He could bond…Snape shuddered… with the boy and take a step forward into a new life, all of his regrets swept away. Snape could spend time outside the dungeon. He might even undo a button or attempt to smile. 

Harry had never felt so accepted and understood. Snape totally got him! The Gryffindor drew back and gazed at Severus in adoration. The Potions Master's eyes filled with…not loathing, for Harry and desire. Harry blushed and wondered if today was the day he would finally lose his v-card. 

And then, they kissed, slowly, sweetly and with lots of sloppy tongue. Somewhere, Ron and Hermione fell violently ill. Ron wondered what was this "brain bleach" that Hermione begged for. Elsewhere, Malfoy was miffed. Severus had never kissed _him_ with tongue. Stupid Potter.

"Harry, do you know why the symbol for Slytherin is a snake?" Snape purred.

Harry swooned, overcome by a lust that had been so repressed, it was as if it had never existed at all before that moment. 

"Oh, Severus!" Harry moaned, his robe developing a not-inconsiderable tent at his midsection.

"Why don't I show you how a Slytherin can...slither in?" 


End file.
